On the desire to write

Writing out stuff is not something I could force. Sometimes, I just have something inside of me that needs to get out and I start typing and there it is. There is a whole book in me. I have no idea of the plot. If its a whodunit, the ending will be as much a surprise to me as you.

If I don’t type, I mean if I try to supress something, my hands go numb. This has happened before. I thought it was peripheral neuropathy (as you do) but it turns out my body/mind counsellor unearthed that it was my body protesting at the suppression of an urge to type.

I am not good at suppression. It does funny things to me. Which means you can know almost anything about me if you ask enough questions and get me in the right mood. I must have only a very small chamber for storing the suppressed, because if I try to fill it I go all off balance.

Words can tumble out of me if they bubble up; on the flip side if I am forced to write something (eg a paper on something that doesn’t interest me) its like getting blood from a stone. I can sit all day and stare at a page with nothing coming forth. Now I know the way to cure this is to read around the topic until there is at least some enthusiasm, and usually there is, and then to start typing on the bit that interests me the most.

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